


Old Shame

by JohnAmendAll



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnAmendAll/pseuds/JohnAmendAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Land of Fiction has one last surprise for Zoë and Jamie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Shame

**Author's Note:**

> Set between the last two scenes of _The Mind Robber_.

Supporting the erstwhile Master of the Land of Fiction between them, Jamie and Zoë followed the Doctor out of the burning control centre, onto a paved terrace with a marble balustrade. 

"Please," the ex-Master said. "I must rest a moment." 

"Which way do we go, anyway?" Jamie asked. "Everything keeps changing round here." 

"I'll scout around," the Doctor said. "You three, wait here until I come back, and don't wander off." 

He darted round the corner of the building they'd emerged from, and was lost to view. Left alone, the other three were able to pay more attention to their surroundings. Beyond the balustrade, elaborate formal gardens stretched into the distance, lit by an unreal light brighter than moonlight, but too pale to be the sun. Looking over her shoulder, Zoë saw that the building they'd escaped from looked, from the outside, like a run-down country house. Flames flickered behind its windows, and swirls of smoke drifted past her, but there was no sound or smell of burning. 

"Hey," Jamie said. "Was that thing there just now?" 

Zoë followed his pointing finger. A few paces away, she saw, was an elaborate fountain, topped by a dolphin spouting water. Standing beside it was a tall, slender woman with waist-length raven hair, facing away from them. 

"I'm sure it wasn't," she said. 

Jamie looked at the former Master. "How d'ye feel now, sir?" 

"I think I can stand on my own." The old man's eyes twinkled. "If you wish to disengage yourself from me and make that young lady's closer acquaintance, I have no intention of stopping you." 

Jamie and Zoë accordingly separated themselves from the ex-Master, and took a couple of steps in the direction of the fountain. The woman must have heard their footsteps, because she turned to face them. She was clad in a sheer silk dress, midnight-blue in colour, that made the most of her shapely figure. 

Zoë stopped dead, the blood draining from her face. "No!" 

"What's the matter?" Jamie asked. 

"Jamie, say she's a fictional character and she doesn't exist. Say it!" 

"How do I know that? I've never met the lass." Jamie turned back to the unknown lady. "How d'ye do?" 

"How do you do?" the woman replied, in a rich, seductive voice. "And what brings such a handsome young man to join me in my lonely vigil? Perhaps you would do me the honour of telling me your name, sir." 

Zoë, her face now going bright pink, was staring fixedly at the ground and muttering "No, no, no..." 

"James McCrimmon. Uh, call me Jamie. And you are?" 

"My name," the woman said, with a sweeping gesture, "is Zuleika." 

"Who?" 

"Ah, Zuleika Dobson?" the former Master said. "The charming conjurer, who broke the heart of every young man in Oxford?" 

Zuleika, if that was her name, gave him the briefest of glances before turning her limpid violet eyes back in Jamie's direction. 

"Alas, no," she said. "My name is Zuleika Laurentina Hannacott." 

"That's a coincidence," Jamie said, nudging Zoë. "She's got the same initials as you." 

Zoë looked as if she wanted to sink through the floor. "It's **not** a coincidence," she said, through gritted teeth. 

"Actually, she's got a look of you, too." 

"Oh, Jamie!" 

Zuleika put her hand on Jamie's arm. "Let's walk together in the gardens. You can tell me all about yourself." 

"Stop it!" Zoë shouted. 

"You don't want to waste your time with that little squirt, Jamie. I'm more of a woman than she could ever hope to be." 

"I told you to stop!" Zoë hurled herself at the raven-haired temptress, who effortlessly caught her by the wrist and sent her spinning into a flowerbed. 

"She made me stronger than her, faster, and cleverer." Zuleika took Jamie's hand, and pressed it to her bosom. "And quite, quite irresistible." 

"Irresistible, aye?" Jamie said. "Then resist this." 

Before Zuleika had time to react, Jamie had shoved her, hard. She staggered backwards, tripped, and toppled into the fountain. Her scream was cut off by a thunderous splash. 

"Ye see," Jamie said, "Zoë may be a little squirt. And she can be an annoying wee mearcaid at times, but there's something ye need tae ken." 

Zuleika, waist-deep in the fountain, her hair full of duckweed and her long dress streaked with slime, now looked rather less like an idealised version of Zoë and rather more like a drowned rat. 

"And what's that?" she spat. 

"Zoë's my friend," Jamie said simply. "And if you treat her like that, you aren't." 

Turning his back on the fountain, he went to help Zoë out of the flowerbed, only to find she was already on her feet and dusting herself down. 

"So, I'm a little squirt," she said. "And an annoying... what was it?" 

"Mearcaid," Jamie said. "It means a lass who's headstrong." 

"I don't think that was very polite." 

"I was being honest. You said you liked people to tell the truth." 

"Well, I do." 

"So are ye going tae tell the the truth now?" He looked hard at her. "Who is yon Zuleika lass?" 

Zoë blushed again, and bit her lip, but didn't seem able to come up with an answer. 

"I believe I might be able to explain," the former Master said. "I found, when I was writing for _The Ensign_ , that as well as the boys for whom my stories were intended, many young ladies followed the adventures of Captain Jack Harkaway. Some of them took the time and effort to write stories of their own, and send them to us. A common feature was that the good Captain would fall in love with a plucky heroine, whose name and physical description would be strangely reminiscent of the young author." 

"So ye mean–" 

"I think your young friend here has tried her hand at writing, has she not?" 

Zoë nodded, a picture of mortification. "I was twelve." 

"And the hero, for whom your Zuleika was intended?" 

"Commander Eriksen." She looked at their blank faces. "He was in a programme called _Lost in Time_." 

"Never heard of him," Jamie said. 

Zoë attempted a laugh. "You didn't miss much." 

She risked a look back at the fountain, and found she couldn't see it any more. Whether that was because of the thickening mist, or because it had vanished as mysteriously as it had arrived, she wasn't sure. 

"Ah, there you are," the Doctor said, suddenly appearing from among the clouds of fog. "I'm pretty sure we should go this way. We'd better hold hands - it's getting quite murky." He took Jamie by the hand. "Did you run into any difficulty while I was gone?" 

Jamie linked his free hand with Zoë's. "Nothing at all," he said firmly. 

As they set off into the mist, Zoë gave Jamie's hand a grateful squeeze. It looked as if Jamie, like her, thought the whole incident was best considered closed. 

_I suppose it could have been worse_ , she thought. _It was only a silly Mary Sue. It could have been the slashfic._


End file.
